Fifteenth of Harbinger

The Misty Veil was no safer the second time, though Sashai at least had her own horse now. They moved slowly, with Brimur taking the lead along a path that only he seemed able to detect. For her part, Sashai followed close behind, listening nervously to the patter of footsteps and the fluttering of wings that often seemed to track them. Once or twice she spotted small lizards scattering upon their approach, but it seemed to her that bigger things lurked in the mist. Brimur didn’t seem concerned by their presence, though he was certainly distracted by something. The first night, they stopped under a rocky overhang only a few feet from what seemed like a relatively recent rockfall. Brimur managed to get a fire started, which helped to push back some of the cold. Sashai waited until he had settled back against the rock before she spoke.

“Brimur, if I may ask a question?”

He turned his eyes to her and nodded, his lips stretching in what almost formed a smile. “Of course, Sashai. I haven’t been much of a conversation partner today, have I?”

“It is not a problem,” Sashai promised. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “What is Belkai?”

Brimur raised an eyebrow. “What is she? Or who is she?”

“I know who she is,” Sashai assured him. “I have seen her as Ashelath’s slave, as well as freed and Lord of Narandir. I have spoken with her and her friends, I have been amongst her people. But there is more to her than simply her actions.”

Brimur’s smile widened, and there was a distant look in his eye when he responded. “I always forget your wisdom for your youth, Sashai. Forgive me. You are right, Belkai is more than she appears. When she first came to the Brilhardem, she was like many of our initiates. She was bold, smart, and broken. In time we began to learn a bit more of her spirit. Arak put it best – she has the heart of an orc. She is a fierce warrior, a natural fighter. She wasn’t the fastest learner or even the strongest mage, but I have never met anyone who understood the art as she does. Her relationship with magic goes deeper than anything that I have ever seen, not that she recognises it.

“She was, quite literally, a child of Elkur. Of all of us who call ourselves Children of the Wind, Belkai Androva is the only true heir of that name.”

Sashai frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Her parents were from the southern tribes. They tried for many years to have a child,” Brimur told her. “They could not, at least not on their own. After years of pleading to the Arcane, they turned to Elkur and he granted them a daughter. The tribes feared the coming of a divine person, something to do with an ancient prophecy. Androv brought his family to the Dominion, and Belkai was raised amongst orcs. But she was never at home.

“Sashai, Belkai is not one of us. She is human, but there is a divine element to her. Hence why she has such a connection to magic. We always wondered what her destiny was to be. I believe that it’s becoming clearer with each moment. Whatever this age is that we live in, Belkai was placed here to play a decisive role in it.”

“The Prophetess believes that Belkai will change the balance of power on this continent,” Sashai said. “She can bring this world together in a way no one else is capable of.”

“The balance of power?” Brimur’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Three Arcane are dead, Sashai. And she killed the Sons of Retribution. She has already shifted that balance. All that remains is to see where it leads.”

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“And where is that?”

Brimur looked out at the mist, his eyes unfocused. “Somewhere we can’t imagine. That’s the only certainty that I can give.”

He went silent then, and after an hour sent Sashai to get some sleep, offering to take the first watch. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep in her exhaustion, though she slept fitfully as she dreamed of death in a green glade.

***

It felt like only minutes had passed when Brimur shook her awake. She winced as she opened her eyes, her head feeling as if it were being split open. She took a deep breath and pushed through the pain before looking around. Though the mist hadn’t cleared at all, it seemed brighter somehow. She let out a groan as she rubbed at the pulsing behind her eyes.

“How long was I asleep?” she asked. Brimur laughed.

“Seven hours, Sashai,” he said gently, and handed her a water bladder. She sniffed it, then drank a sip of the ale. “You needed the rest, it seems.”

“What about you?”

Brimur shrugged. “Elves need less than others.”

“More than mortal races, you mean,” Sashai pointed out, though her smile removed any hint of accusation from the statement.

“Immortality means nothing when there are no older generations,” Brimur pointed out. Sashai had no answer to that. There wasn’t a single elf still alive who had witnessed the Palian Empire in its glory, and that was less than two thousand years ago. Those who had survived the mysterious cataclysm had been seemingly cursed, dying at an unnatural rate from disease and old age. The youngest elf that Sashai had heard of was six hundred – ancient by human standards, but virtually youth by the old elven expectations.

Brimur gave her a sad smile. “Still, I get your meaning. And yes, we require less than the mortal races. This is the natural way of things.”

He sighed. “There is some food in the packs, but there will be no fresh food until we reach Lustria tonight. Eat quickly. We have lingered too long.”

Sashai didn’t know what he was concerned about, but he was visibly anxious as they packed up the camp before mounting their horses and setting out to the southwest. He was quiet, too, responding to most of her prompts with abrupt responses. She went silent after the first two hours, straining her ears to try and hear whatever had him concerned. There was nothing that she could detect, but still he stayed silent until the afternoon when they came to the edge of the Veil. It was subtle at first, just a slight increase in visibility, gradually building until Sashai was shocked to see the first hints of the blue sky above.

“It feels the same every time,” Brimur called out without turning. He’d sensed her shock, Sashai realised. “Even after all these years.”

In another few hours, the mist completely gave way to sunny skies. They found themselves standing in a wide open plain, rich green grass stretching as far as their eyes could see. In the near distance were the crumbling remains of an old Palian fort, its orange bricks still standing despite the years and raids from scavengers.

“So this is what Lustria used to look like,” Sashai said softly. “Before the mining.”

“The north is more mountainous, as you know, but essentially, yes.” Brimur smiled with bemusement. “It was once a beautiful land. There is a price to be paid for our riches.”

Sashai knew that it was worth the price, but still she felt a twinge of sadness. Like most Svaletans, hers was a lineage of farmers, and the thought of digging beneath the earth for precious stones was beyond her. She didn’t reply as Brimur declared the old fort to be their shelter for the night, too lost in her thoughts to say much at all. If some part of her mind noticed the role reversal, she didn’t recognise it. She didn’t snap out of her reverie until Brimur stopped them about an hour short of the ruins.

“Wait here,” he said quietly before dismounting his horse and heading towards a small copse of trees. Sashai watched in amusement as he studied the trees. After a few minutes he seemed to find what he was looking for and scratched at the bark. He stared at whatever he’d uncovered, then called out for Sashai to join him. She made her way over to him and he pointed at some red markings on the scratched tree. She ran a hand over it, surprised at its warmth. It was an angular ‘P’ with a flick at the bottom, surrounded by dashes.

“It’s a Watcher symbol,” Brimur told her. “The fort is secure. Lasiri knew we’d come this way.”

“She might have left it for her people,” Sashai noted. Brimur smiled, the first genuine warmth he’d shown since leaving the Brilhardem compound.

“Then she wouldn’t have left her scent,” he replied. “No, this is for us. She’ll want to meet. Keep an eye out for more of these.”

So her pledge of allegiance had been real, Sashai thought. They had allies after all.